North! Or Be Eaten (48 page)

Then the dragon’s voice filled Janner’s mind. It said the same words it had spoken that day at the cliffs, but now he knew whom it meant.

He is near you, young ones. Beware. He destroys what he touches and seeks the young ones to use them for his own ends. We have been watching, waiting for him. He sailed across the sea, and he is near you, child. We can smell him
.

It wasn’t Gnag. It wasn’t Gammon.

The dragon’s warning had been about Podo Helmer all along.

It was young dragons who were in danger, not he and his siblings. Janner was stunned. He knew Podo had been a pirate, and before that a Strander, but he had never stopped to consider the awful things his grandfather might have done—awful things that weren’t just a part of some story but had actually happened.

But to slay the young of these magnificent creatures? Nia was right. Wicked people would do anything for money. He didn’t want to think of Podo that way, but there was no escaping the brutal fact that his grandfather had done this terrible thing.

The dragon roared.

The crew battled the Fangs, but they were losing. Several of Errol’s men already lay motionless on the deck of the ship. The Grey Fangs, unlike their scaly brothers, fought in silence, with precision and great skill. The rest of the crew scattered to protect the ship from the looming ice walls; others fetched bows and trained them on the sea dragons, though it was obvious arrows would be of no use.

Oskar lost his footing and sprawled on the deck, slipping to and fro like a dead fish. Nia’s mouth hung open in a silent scream. Leeli, however, tucked her crutch under her arm, hopped up the stairs, and raced across the upper deck straight toward the dragon.

Janner snatched a sword from the hand of one of the fallen Kimerans and wondered whether he should hide, leap into the battle with the Grey Fangs, or follow Leeli to the forecastle where Podo faced the dragons.

The old dragon writhed in angry triumph, and its frenzy spread to the many dragons behind it. They roared and churned the waters until glaciers split and avalanches tumbled down from the sides of the Stony Mountains.

Podo stood like a statue at the prow, awaiting his death.

Dark wings suddenly blocked Janner’s vision, and he found himself looking into Artham’s eyes.

“Janner,” he said.

His voice was strong and sure, and it cut through the clamor. His face was the same, though now colored with the same reddish tint as his forearms, and instead of wild, white hair, fine feathers shaded with subtle color and design covered his head and shoulders. He was beautiful.

“Uncle Artham—how did you—what happened?”

“I’m not sure I can explain it myself,” Artham said. “Janner, there’s no time. Take your brother.”

In Artham’s arms lay a Grey Fang, small and motionless. It wore no clothes, but its body was covered in long gray and white fur. Janner couldn’t hide the disgust on his face. This wasn’t Tink. This was a terrible mistake.

Then the Fang stirred and turned its head.

Janner’s blood ran cold. Neither the fur, the pointed ears, the black nose, nor the sharp teeth could hide the fact that this was indeed Tink. Janner didn’t want to touch him. He didn’t want to believe this was his little brother.

“Drop your sword and take him,” Artham said. “He needs you now more than ever, Throne Warden. The dragons will kill us all if we don’t do something.”

Janner nodded and took his brother into his arms. “What will you do?” he asked.

“I’ll start by dealing with these wolves.”

Artham snatched up the sword Janner had dropped, then spread his wings and leapt into the air. He dropped into the center of the fight and killed three Grey Fangs before his feet touched the deck. In seconds, the Kimerans had the advantage and backed the six remaining Grey Fangs into a corner.

Destroy them
, said the dragon’s voice in Janner’s head. It was talking to the other sea dragons.
Destroy them all
.

“I can see that you’re angry! Spare the others! It was me who took yer children!” Podo bellowed. He knelt in the prow and clenched his hands, and his big, broken voice rose above the chaos.
“Please!”

The sea dragons would crush the ship and swallow every one of them. All because of Podo. All because of the wicked things he had done. It was no more use trying to stop the dragons than trying to stop a rack of dark clouds blowing in. Nothing in all of Aerwiar could stay such bitter vengeance.

Faster than Janner would have believed possible, the old dragon struck. Like a whip, the beast’s head reared back and shot forward, straight at Podo and—

“Leeli!” Nia shrieked.

The little girl reached her grandfather and stood between him and the dragon.

S
top!” Leeli said, and the dragon did.

It froze, so close to Leeli that she could have reached out and touched the tip of its nose.

And she did.

For the first time in an age, someone touched a living dragon.

Seawater washed down the sides of the dragon’s slick face and puddled on the deck. Its mouth, full of teeth longer than Leeli was tall, was stretched open to eat Podo whole. The old pirate knelt with his eyes closed.

Janner sensed the dragon in his mind, who was speechless with surprise that this wavy-haired little creature would have such courage. The tips of her delicate fingers rested on the dragon’s nose. She looked calmly into its eyes, though they were as big as wagon wheels and deep as the sea. A little burst of air from its nose blew back her hair.

It was your song that fell from the cliffs
.

“Yes! It was her song!” Artham said, and Janner realized his uncle could hear the voice too. Artham broke away from the Kimerans at the stern, flew to the prow, and landed where Podo knelt. “Lords of the sea,” he said with a bow, “before you stands the Song Maiden of Anniera.”

The dragon blinked, and again its thoughts were spoken in Janner’s mind.

Impossible
.

“It’s true, lords,” said Artham.

Anniera has fallen. The dream is ended, and the world is dark
.

“If the dream is ended,” said Artham with a flap of his wings, “how do you explain these feathers? How do you explain Leeli’s courage? How else could I hear your words if I were not a Throne Warden? It is true the Shining Isle is smoke and ashes and that darkness is wide over the land. But your long memory has failed you. Of all creatures, you should know that the darkness is seldom complete, and even when it is, the pinprick of light is not long in coming—and finer for the great shroud that surrounds it.”

The dragon was silent.

Artham beckoned for Nia and Janner to approach. Nia took Tink from Janner’s arms and rested his furry head on her shoulder, holding him close like she had a thousand times when he was very young.

Janner was ashamed to admit he was glad she took him. He didn’t like the feel of the Fang fur or the eerie change in his brother’s features; it was a reminder that the Throne Warden had failed. No matter what anyone said, though he knew it wasn’t true, Janner would never escape the feeling of responsibility for what had happened to his brother. And then he began to understand something about his uncle: it was guilt that drove Artham P. Wingfeather mad.

Nia climbed the steps with Tink in her arms, and Janner followed. They stood beside Podo and Leeli, all of them wet and cold, shivering in the blustery sea wind.

“The heart of the kingdom stands before you. Behold,” Artham said with a sweep of his hands, “the pinprick of light.”

The dragon brought its head low and studied each of them in turn. When the giant eyes settled on Janner, he fought the urge to kneel as Podo had done. The beast was as old as mountains, and its gaze was heavy. When it looked at Leeli, she smiled and curtsied, and it bowed its head in return.

The dragon’s eyes fell on Podo again, and a rumble issued from its chest.
Our anger is deep. However, for the sake of the old friendship with the Shining Isle, and for the Song Maiden’s spirit, the ship may pass
.

“Our thanks, sea lord!” said Artham with a sigh of relief. He squeezed Podo’s shoulder and whispered to the others, “They’re letting us go. Thank the Maker, they’re letting us go!”

The ship may pass
, the dragon continued,
but Scale Raker is ours. His offense is great, and we will not so easily let him tread our waters. Long have I ached to foul his flesh
.

“No,” Janner moaned.

“Please,” Artham said.

“What did it say? Tell me!” Nia demanded.

“Hush, lass,” said Podo. He looked up at Nia with a gentle smile. “Me voyage is over. I knew the sea held nothing but death and shame for me. Couldn’t bear to lay me eyes on it all these years. I knew sooner or later me waters would carry me back here and there would be a reckoning.”

“Quiet!” Nia said. “I’m too angry at you to let you die. This reckoning is nothing to what Mama would have said! To have kept this hidden from us, to have done these things—”

“She knew,” Podo said quietly.

“What? Mama
despised
the dragon hunters. She hated what they did!” Nia sputtered.

“Aye,” Podo said. “And so do I. Hate it more than you ever could. Many’s the time I wished I could go back and fix it all, undo the things I done on the Strand and on the sea. But when yer mother gave me her heart, I left the old Podo behind and said good-bye to the sea. I never thought I’d see the ocean again once I married your ma in the Green Hollows, but then Esben chose you as his queen. Remember how I sent you and yer ma ahead and waited till winter before I crossed the strait to Anniera?”

“Yes, I remember,” Nia said.

“I was scared silly that the dragons would rise up as they have now. The dragons took me leg, and they knew me scent. It was a miracle I made it across the strait to Anniera, and I made peace with never settin’ foot on a ship again. Broke me heart, but I’d broken plenty of others and saw it as me just penance. Then Gnag the Nameless attacked, and that storm blew us across to Skree. I thought the dragons would gobble us up on the way, but I reckon the Maker had different plans. All those years I stayed at the cottage on Dragon Day because I couldn’t bear to look out at that wide horizon and know I’d never sail it again.

“Listen, daughter. I’m glad beyond telling that it’s just me they want. When we come out of that tunnel, I thought for certain that me deeds would be the end of you too. But they’re lettin’ you go. Nia dear, I’ll go to the Deep happy knowing that.”

“Enough!” said Nia. She rounded on Artham. “You tell these dragons I’m the Queen Mother, this is my father, and I pardon him for these crimes. They must let him pass!”

Artham hesitated.

“Tell them!” Nia snapped.

The dragon’s chest rumbled again, and its eyes narrowed. Janner had the disturbing sense that its patience was wearing thin.

“I don’t have to tell them,” said Artham quietly. “You just did. They understand you.”

“Nia, don’t,” said Podo. “I’ve done things that ain’t been paid for, and it’s time I stopped running from that.”

Listen to the old man
, said the dragon.

“It says—it says you should listen to Podo, Nia,” Artham said.

“No!” she said with all the authority she could muster, clutching Tink so tight that he whined.

The dragon was finished listening to Nia. It reared its head and hissed at them. The other dragons writhed, the ship rocked, and it seemed they would break the vessel to pieces and swallow it whole.

“Please, sir,” said Leeli to the dragon, “isn’t there something that can be done?”

The dragon’s answer was a name.

Hulwen!
it said.
Come forth, daughter! Let these grovelers see what Scale Raker has done
.

A ruby red dragon rose from the waters at the old one’s side. It was half the size of the others and swam in a graceless lurch. As it approached, the gray dragon drew back to allow it room. One of its eyes was missing. A long, twisted scar ran from the top of its head, past the missing eye, to the corner of its mouth. One of its fins hung limp, cut into shreds, and in several places its scales were twisted and corrupt where, Janner guessed, harpoons had pierced it long ago. Instead of a row of fine glimmering fangs, teeth were missing or stuck out at odd angles.

Podo shook his head like a child. “I beg ye, masters, please don’t. I can’t bear it.”

The creature hung its mangled head over the deck of the ship, turned its good eye on Podo, and grunted. Janner waited for its words to fill his mind, but none came. Leeli and Nia hid their eyes.

My daughter
, said the old dragon,
who was once as beautiful as the rising moon. My daughter, whose many scars came from Scale Raker’s blade and the spears of his henchmen
.

Janner felt sick. It was one thing to learn his grandfather had done terrible things. It was another to see those terrible things with his own eyes. And this was only one of the dragons he had attacked. Janner tried to look at Podo but couldn’t.

Do you remember her, old man?

“It wants to know if—if you remember her,” Artham said. “It’s the old one’s daughter.”

Podo shook his head.

Then remember this!
said the old dragon.
Show him, Hulwen
.

The ruby red dragon sighed.

Show him!

The smaller dragon dipped her head into the water. When she emerged, she spat something at them. A clean, white bone clattered to the deck where Podo knelt.

“Me leg,” he whispered. He looked up at the red dragon. “It was you. I remember. Oh Maker, I’m so sorry.”

Hulwen, vengeance is yours
, said the old gray dragon.
Kill the one who killed so many
.

N
o!” Janner screamed.

The ruby dragon grunted, reared back—and hesitated.

Do it!
said the old dragon.

But the young dragon’s eye fell on Leeli and her twisted leg. It looked at Podo, trembling and bent on his knees.